Tales of Lylat
by Arwing Ace
Summary: These are stories of the Starfox team before they were Starfox. Also, expect stories from other characters like Katt, Wolf, Bill, and others. The first story is about Fox, during his days at the Academy.


Author's Note: My first Starfox fic, but hopefully not my last! The Fury is the name I gave to the Cornerian fighter that appears in Starfox 64 while the Fledgling as well as Lt. Ethan Tarco, are purely fan-creations. Now for the legal stuff…

I don't own Starfox or any of its characters

**1420 Hours, 7/16/2434**

**CDF Flight Academy Training Mission, Rabbit Flight **

**En route to outer perimeter of Meteo Field **

Meteo Field. Uncountable numbers of asteroids tumbled through the featureless expanse of space. A monotonous sight to see, but one that concealed great danger within its mass of drifting rock, weakly held in place by the gravity of Solar and the planet Corneria.

Even within the armor-plated, gravity controlled, and climate locked cockpit of his Fledging-class trainer, Fox McCloud still felt uneasy as he headed towards Meteo. He had heard his father and Peppy talk about the Meteo training flight and how the Academy had all kinds of nasty little surprises waiting for the trainees when they entered the field. Peppy had told Fox about how final year students in fully armed fighters waited among the asteroids for the trainees to come through before attacking. Fox's father James had told Fox of how two of his fellow cadets had been killed in a collision. Fox began to preoccupy himself with his instrument panel and cockpit displays in an effort to distract him from the feeling of anxiety that permeated his every thought.

Fox glanced at his central Multi Function Display. Normally, this would have shown a holographic artificial horizon as well as a compass and attitude indicator. But, for now at least, the screen displayed the message, "Formation Sequence Online" in capital black letters. His Fledgling's controls were locked and the tiny trainer was being kept straight and level by a homing pulse beacon on the Flight Leader's Fury-class fighter.

Unlike the Fury flying at the formation's point, Fox's ship, along with his two wingmate's own were small tandem seat training craft known as Fledglings. Built by industrial giant Foretech's aerospace division, the Fledglings were used by the CDF as an advanced trainer; the ship a cadet would fly before advancing to the Furies and Thunderbolts of the fleet. The Fledgling was slightly smaller then a Fury and it had a similar design. But the trainer sported two smaller engines, two fully equipped cockpit areas, and even an emergency grav-lift system installed, all redundancy features should the cadet pilot screw up.

While the Fledgling wasn't much to look at with its stubby wings, short and pudgy body, and weren't the fastest ships in the CDF's arsenal, the tiny ships were known for their maneuverability. In fact, when the Fledgling had debuted, it could out-fly the Guardian class fighter, then the CDF's retiring standard interceptor. But, as some pilots acknowledged bitterly, the Fledgling got its tight turning from a general lack of armor, as well as weak shields, and poor armament. Although the Fledgling was armed with a single T&B type pulse laser, it was seen as puny and helpless as a combat machine.

Fox didn't have time to reflect on his own opinion of the trainer as the young vulpine continued to scan his instruments. He now checked his sensor display screen. On it, Fox could see the three other ships in his formation; the Flight Leader's Fury at the front of the angled line formation and the two other trainers on Fox's port side; one near, one far. Fara Phoenix, a young fennec vixen flew close on Fox's left wing. Fara had been one of Fox's best friends since they were both kits. Fara's father was the CEO of Arspace Dynamics and when Fox's father James had been recruited as a CDF test pilot for a new Arspace product, Fox and Fara had been introduced.

"You've been quiet Fox", said Fara's calm yet peppy voice over the COM, startling Fox, who hadn't realized his Communications systems were recovered from the slipspace jump, "everything okay?"

Fox moved slightly, sitting up straight in the seat from his slouching position. "Yeah, everything's a' okay over here," he answered the vixen's hail. Her voice was calm and sweet, but it also subtly asserted command and control. Fox smiled; it was good to talk to Fara, as she often bypassed military formality in conversation, which helped Fox to relax somewhat. He flipped a few switches on his COM unit and spoke. "How you holdin' up?"

"'Holding up?'" Fara replied, sounding a bit teased, "It's just a patrol and a dull one at that. I've done simulator missions that were more exciting. You on the other hand seem a bit nervous."

"Well, I am," said Fox, unashamed to admit his foreboding, "sims are one thing but the real deal is something totally different."

"Come on, we've flown through Meteo hundreds of times in the sims. If you've made it this far in training, then the CDF knows you can fly the field in a real ship", replied Fara.

"How bout we get Bill's opinion?" said Fox. The vulpine flipped a few switches around his COM unit to lock to his wingmate's frequency. "Hey Bill, you reading me?" he inquired of his second wingmate.

Flying on Fox's rear quarter was another friend, a young grey husky named William Grey, but who always went by his nickname, Bill. Fox had met Bill in a Cornerian military school when both were eleven. Sharing a love for flying, the two had become fast friends and had both joined the Academy with the aim of flying for the CDF one day.

Bill acknowledged Fox's message with a friendly hello. Bill was a kick-back sort of fellow and he didn't sound anymore concerned then Fara about the mission. But Fox knew better.

"How do you feel about this flight? The infamous Meteo patrol?" asked Fox of the husky.

"I'm okay," replied Bill, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"Come on Bill," said Fara, "you're nervous and you know it."

"Well fine, I guess I am. But why shouldn't I be? Who knows what the academy's got out here waitin' for us."

"I hear they have a whole carrier battle wing cloaked in the field somewhere and you have to punch your way through stun blasts from the whole group," said Fox, speaking with his own anxiety, "The ones who get hit are washed out of flight school."

"What about what your dad always said? How those final year cadets wait for ya' and how two of them collided that one year?" replied Bill.

"Oh please," entered Fara in a bit of frustration, "You both have been listening to those final years too much. They're just trying to get the fear going to see how you'll react."

"So, you're saying there _are_ final year cadets waiting for us?" said Bill.

"How the hell would I know?" rebuked Fara, a bit more frustrated now, "Look, the bottom line is you can only guess at what's out there."

"The point is, Cadet Phoenix, to be prepared for anything and everything," came the voice of Lieutenant Junior Grade Ethan Tarco, a young, brown-furred hare and the formation's Flight Leader, "Sorry for listening in, but Cadets McCloud and Grey do have a point, Phoenix."

"Yes sir," replied Fara, a bit crestfallen.

The lieutenant, unlike most of the other instructors, was known as a calmer and more composed student flight leader. At twenty four, he had been with the academy's flight training program for less then a year. Although he was still new to teaching student pilots, he had already gained a reputation as a fine pilot during his time aboard the battleship _Allegiance_ and he had proven to be a good instructor to his students. Fox had received a lot of his second year training from the hare and had a great deal of respect for him; at least he didn't have a stick up his ass like his first year instructor.

"Sorry to end the chit-chat, but we're approaching the field's outer perimeter. We need to get started. So let's take this from the top," said the lieutenant, "Rabbit Flight Leader to Rabbit flight, all ships report in."

"Hello Rabbit Leader," replied Fox, "This is Rabbit two reporting in."

"Rabbit three COM check," added Fara.

"Rabbit four COM check," said Bill.

"Roger that, I hear all of ya loud and clear. Stand by for deactivation of flight control locks," said the lieutenant.

Another pulsing light, this one red, appeared on Fox's instrument panel. This light was above the central display. The "Flight Controls Locked" message also began to pulsate before it ultimately left the screen. In its place, the message "Flight Controls Active" appeared. Subsequently, this notice vanished and the artificial horizon, compass, and attitude indicator came online.

"All ships, controls are now active. Acknowledge active flight controls," said Ethan. Fox, Fara, and Bill all replied, indicating that they now had control of their ships.

"All right kiddies listen up", continued the young hare, "this is a simulated combat patrol. That means zero chatter outside of tactical and combat situations. We'll be flying through Meteo as your briefing stated, so keep your weapons charged in case you need to blast any rocks out of your way."

"Oh great, now I know why I joined the CDF," interrupted Fara, "to blast rocks." Unlike Fox and Bill, Fara was not all concerned or anxious about the Meteo mission despite the stories told about the flight. In fact, the young vixen even seemed bored with the flight thus far.

"This is a test of your ability to fly through an asteroid belt, not to shoot asteroids. If you like Fara, you can blast all the rocks in the simulators back home," cracked Bill.

"Silence on the COM.," said Ethan. He waited a few moments before continuing. "Now, let me look at the flight plan here… Ah yes, McCloud, looks like your flight leader for the day."

Fox's stomach sank as he suddenly remembered his position as today's flight leader. He had been so preoccupied with his worries and anxieties that he had completely forgotten that it was indeed his turn.

"Well junior," continued the lieutenant, "I'm gonna back off and let you take formation point then the COM's all yours."

Fox growled softly at the hare's words. Although he truly respected and even envied his father, he resented being stuck with the official name of James McCloud Jr. His father was a legend in his own times, largely for his heroic actions during the Separatist War more then twenty years ago. To Fox, it was like being cast in the shadow of his father's legacy, a fact which he felt very strong about. He wasn't just James McCloud's son, he was Fox McCloud and, sooner or later, everyone in the Lylat System would know that.

Fox put these emotions aside as he watched Ethan's Fury begin to break formation. Fox himself prepared to take his position at the head of the formation. Once there, he opened up his COM to Fara and Bill.

"Okay guys, let's do this by the checklist," said Fox, trying to bury his anxiety in his speech, "turn on your FOD sensors and keep your guns warm."

"Copy that Fox," replied Fara.

"Roger Fox, FOD radar engaged," added Bill.

"Pair up," continued Fox, trying to remember the procedures for setting up a combat patrol, "Fara you take my port quarter and Bill, you take the lieutenant's."

"Forming on your wing," said Fara.

"Bill here, I'm in position," acknowledged Bill a few moments later.

"Keep your head on a swivel and watch your sensors. I don't want any nasty surprises," finished Fox, "Keep the COM clear and stay focused."

Bill and Fara acknowledged. Fox took in a deep breath, letting it out in a quick exhale as he turned to activating his Foreign Object Detection sensors and cycling his Fledgling's single T&B laser cannon.

The cadets continued on. Although they had to break formation a few times to weave around some of the larger asteroids, the cadets had reformed their neat flight pattern like seasoned pilots. Aside from these instances and the group having to change direction with every mission waypoint, the flight was going very smoothly. Fox's alertness had been at its highest since he had taken formation lead. But as the minutes dragged on and no threats had been made apparent, Fox became somewhat calm, even complacent as he, Fara, Bill, and Ethan continued on through Meteo.

Then, forty minutes into the flight and with another sixty or so to go before the formation would turn around and head for home, Fox's combat sensor display showed a return signal for the first time in the mission. His calm and relaxed mood suddenly gave way to a more alert state as he informed his wingmates.

"Rabbit leader to Rabbit flight, sensor contact at my 2 o' clock, estimated range five three terrameters," said Fox.

"Rabbit two here, I comply Rabbit leader, bogeys at 2 o' clock", replied Fara in a serious tone of voice that camouflaged the rush of excitement she felt.

"Rabbit three to Rabbit leader, I have contacts as well. Can you identify?" inquired Bill.

Fox looked to his Tac/Ops screen which, if possible, would display the identity of the contacts on his sensor scope. But, the screen only showed the message "Unidentified".

"Negative Rabbit three, targets are unidentified on my scope."

"This is Rabbit two. I'm looking at my sensors here and it looks like we're moving past the contacts. I think the targets are static," said Fara.

Fox could see this on his sensors as well. The targets were now at his 3 o' clock position, or off his right wing. Unless the contacts were flying a parallel course, they were not moving. Fox was unsure of what to do. Could this be part of the training or was there something else going on? Either way, Fox decided to find out.

"Rabbit Leader calling Lieutenant Tarco, please acknowledge," said Fox.

"Yes Rabbit leader, this Lieutenant Tarco, what is it?" replied Ethan.

"Sir, request permission to deviate from patrol course and investigate unidentified contacts now at our four o' clock position, over."

"Proceed Rabbit leader," came the lieutenant's reply, a sly hint evident in his voice. Fox detected this in the transmission and he didn't like it. The hare probably knew something that Fox didn't. It must be part of the training he concluded and he considered withdrawing his request. But, if they were indeed ships waiting to attack, Fox reasoned then it would be best to try and get the jump on them rather than vice versa.

"Rabbit flight, follow my turn. Loosen up, but stay in formation," Fox breathed a deep breath, "rabbits turning starboard, now."

With that, Fox dipped his Fledgling's right wing, pulled back on the control column and gently gave the tiny ship more throttle. Fara followed Fox's gentle turn, staying on his left wing. Bill also turned, followed closely by the lieutenant.

Fox held the right hand turn until the contacts, now numbered six, were at twelve o' clock or in front of his trainer. He then leveled the ship out and checked his ship's combat systems. The central display flashed messages as Fox readied the ship for combat. Shields: Charged. Laser Cannon: Armed. Targeting System: Online and Tracking. Emergency and Ejection System: Ready.

His Fledgling now ready to fight, Fox turned his attention to his sensor display as the distance between his ship and the contacts closed. Fox noted with some worry that the number of contacts was increasing as he and the other three ships came closer. But they were still not moving.

"Distance now two six terrameters," said Fox, "expect visual contact at any moment." Fara and Bill looked ahead into the black abyss, straining for a visual glimpse of their targets. But neither of them nor Fox could see anything as their ships flew through the vacuum.

Suddenly, something caught Fara's eye, though at extreme range. It was an elongated object, with a tapered front. Its length was painted blue along its bottom surface. Two red lines above the object's belly and a coat of white colored the top. These were the colors of a CDF Academy ship.

"Fox!" called out Fara, her excitement causing a lapse in her military formality, "I have a visual contact. A small ship, possibly a Fury painted in Academy colors at my twelve o' clock."

Fox looked out ahead and also saw the ship. "Copy that Fara, I have visual as well." He looked at the Fury-class fighter with scrutiny. Its engine was not functioning, as there was no plume of superheated plasma at the ship's rear. As Fox continued to watch the fighter, he noticed that the ship was drifting with no evident pilot control.

Fara came onto the COM again, reporting more Academy painted Furies. But these were different. These other fighter's were damaged. Blaster impact marks, plasma scoring, missing wings and broken fuselages marked each of the six fighters. A solitary body, almost invisible against the blackness of space, drifted a few meters from a destroyed fighter. Fox grimaced; his sensors had first detected the fighters themselves and the increase in contacts was simply the drifting field of debris around the dead ships.

Something was seriously wrong here.

Lieutenant Tarco's Fury suddenly broke formation, increased throttle, and appeared in front of Fox on his starboard side. His voice came over the COM. It sounded shocked, desperate, and then gradually became anxious and angry.

"Talon Flight this is Rabbit Leader, come in Talon Leader."

No response.

"Talon Flight this Rabbit Leader. Any Talon Flight Furies respond."

Once again, the bands were silent.

"Rabbit Leader this is Rabbit Three," said Bill, "I'm picking up a transmission on a restricted CDF frequency. I'm patching it through the squadron now."

A distraught voice, fraught with anxiety and desperation came over the COM as the four pilots listened. Entwined within this voice and its words was recorded the final moments of the cadets and their fighters.

"This is Warrant Officer Steel, Talon Flight, CDF Flight Academy requesting assistance from any CDF forces. We have been attacked…" static drowned the young cadet's words for a few moments, "…Meteo Field Bravo Quadrant, Section one-two…Set this message to repeat on CDF Freq…. Talon Flight, CDF Academy calling for…" the static abruptly ended and the message began to repeat. Ethan listened to the message a few more times before killing the feed. His own voice came back onto the COM but by this time it sounded just as terrible and constricted as the young Warrant Officer of Talon Flight.

"Rabbits, listen up. On my authority I am terminating this training flight. Form up in Fingers Four formation and plot the following course to exit the field."

"Copy that sir, assuming defensive formation," replied Fox.

The formation began to move fluidly from combat patrol to a four-ship defensive block. The ships now had to form a slanted line, similar to what they had been flying a few minutes before, but with more spacing between the ships. Tarco would take point and the three cadets would take up position on his flanks; Fox on the left wing, Bill and Fara on the right.

The group began a one hundred and eighty degree turn to port to begin their egression from Meteo. The Fledglings turned together, but Tarco's Fury failed to follow the others in the turn; his Fury was much more maneuverable then the trainers and as a result, he was turning inside of the cadets.

Fox, Fara, and Bill were about half way through their turn and Ethan was already heading on the new course. Seeing this, the hare decreased throttle and waited for the rest of the formation to catch up. He continued on this course, straight and level.

"Come on kids, hurry up," said Ethan, still sounding anxious.

"We're on our way sir," replied Fox.

Suddenly and without warning, a stream of green cannon shot blazed from the group's left flank. The light from the plasma surprised the cadets as they watched it whiz by in front of them; headed straight for Ethan's ship.

The tiny Fury was still diligently maintaining a straight course and stood helpless to stop or avoid the shots. The first series of blaster shot hit the fighter, rocking the tiny craft and causing its weak energy shields to flicker and then dissipate. Before Ethan could react, the second series of fiery green rounds caught up and impacted the ship's hull. The fighter's metal skin boiled from the heat, then buckled and collapsed, breaking the ship in two. The ship's engine overheated, causing a second explosion that tore the wings free and turned the rest of the ship into a cloud of debris. There was no sign of Ethan's escape capsule.

Fox, as well as Fara and Bill, were caught flatfooted. Before any of them could even speculate, two Lancer class fighters, their twin engines trailing plumes of exhaust, shot past the debris of Ethan's Fury.

Fox instinctively locked on to one the ships and his computer managed to identify the ships. They were painted in a dull grey paint scheme with red paint adorning the wingtips and the area around the cockpit and nose; Katinain Separatists. Fox had heard descriptions of Separatist ships before from his father and how there were rumors that some had survived over the years since the war in their supposed base in Meteo field. Suddenly, the rumors were now solid facts; facts that Fox would now have to contend with.

Fox looked out across his right wing at the twin pairs of plasma off in the distance…and he noticed they were now changing direction.

"Fara, Bill! Break formation! They're coming back!" he barked into the COM. His wingmates obliged instinctively; Bill pulled back on his control column, causing the Fledgling to shoot straight up as Fara made a hard right bank and headed down as she went. Fox banked left and pulled up slightly, his body straining from the g-forces. Even with artificial gravity dampeners, the young vulpine still felt the g's pulling on his body as his ship turned.

The Lancers, flying at full speed, were unable to change course and give chase to the trainers and they shot through where the group had been moments before.

Fox now had to make a series of decisions and do it fast, before the enemy fighters would line up on his wingmates and shoot them down one by one. First, send an alert that the squad was under attack.

"Bill! Contact CDF Meteo Command and tell them we're under attack," Fox ordered, "Request back-up if you can."

"Got it," replied Bill.

Okay. Now, what next? Fox's training told him his next command decision; should the group make a run for it? No, the Lancers were much faster ships then the tiny Fledglings and they would surely catch up to them. Then, the only option was to stay and fight. But the Lancers' weapons had easily cut down the lieutenant's Fury. Against the Fledgling's single cannon, it would be a one sided fight. Either way, the odds didn't look good for the cadets.

"Fox!" came Fara's desperate voice, "they're comin' up behind me! I'm taking evasive action!"

Fara's message flashed through Fox's mind. Time was running out. He made up his mind; the only alternative that showed at least _some_ possibility of survival was to fight off the Separatists.

"Fara, Bill and I are on the way!" replied Fox, his voice now wrought with strain, "Bill, did you get the message off?"

"Yeah, no response though."

_Damn_, thought Fox. This was going to make things difficult.

"Fly my port wing and follow me," he said. Bill Acknowledged with a "Roger".

As the two trainers sped to aid Fara, Fox struggled somewhat to come up with a battle plan. So far, he had done everything by the book, but the current situation called for quick thinking on the spot and that was something no training or schooling could tutor.

He considered the facts; he had two enemy fighters superior to his own and those of his wingmates. The Lancer's had superior speed and weapons, but Fox's squad had the advantage in numbers. Another factor, the Lancers had shown twice that they needed a lot of space to turn and maneuver, where as the Fledglings could maneuver easily and quickly. Despite this, the cadets were still outclassed on a one-on-one basis; if there was going to be any chance for success, the group would have to work together.

Fox and Bill saw the two Lancers, still holding a loose two ship formation and attempting to lock on Fara as she weaved her Fledgling back and forth. Bolts of fire burst from the twin fighters, narrowly missing Fara's ship.

"Bill, I'll take high, you take low. I'll target the right ship and you target the left."

"You got it Fox," replied the husky.

Fox's HUD displayed the crosshair for the Fledgling's single nose-mounted cannon. A small box developed around the image of the right hand fighter. Next to it, the target's range was displayed in standard meters. Fox delicately maneuvered his trainer until the crosshair lined up and he squeezed the trigger on his flight stick. Bill's trainer fired as well.

The green charges shot through space, but the Lancers broke their formation and managed to avoid the shots. Fox growled as he watched the enemy ships break away, but at least Fara appeared undamaged.

"Fara, you okay?" Fox asked.

"I'm fine. These amateurs couldn't hit the side of a freighter," replied Fara somewhat smugly.

"Fox, enemy fighters are going for another pass. They're turning to port," said Bill as he watched the Lancers continue into the vacuum, dodging small asteroids as they went.

"Are they still in formation?" asked Fox in a tense voice.

"Roger, bogies still on each other's wing," replied Bill.

Suddenly, it occurred to Fox. That was the Separatist pilot's secret; their inability to slug it out one-on-one. To make up for their poor piloting and combat skills, Separatists flew and fought in two ship formations and ganged up on individual fighters. The key to winning here would be to disperse the enemy formation.

"Fara, I need you to get above these guys. Match their course and speed and wait for my order," said Fox.

"You got something in mind Foxey?" inquired the vixen.

"Yeah, I do. Now go and wait for my command. When I give the word I want you to dive straight through these bastards; break em' up."

"Roger," replied Fara, sounding intrigued, "climbing now." Fara applied full throttle to her ship and rocket straight up. After a quick burn, she reduced power and waited.

"Bill, stay on my wing. We'll turn and draw these guys back to us."

"Copy that, holding formation; Ready to turn."

Fox looked ahead to see the enemy fighters, still at full burn and still holding formation. Just as Fox expected, the ships began a long turn to the left to come about and get behind Fox and Bill.

"Execute port turn. Follow my lead," Fox ordered. Bill acknowledged and diligently followed Fox without objection. They had always been trained to follow orders without questioning from superior officers, but in any other case, it would have been unusual for students to listen to students in combat. It was hardly unnatural for Bill to listen to Fox however and the same applied to Fara. Fox was impressed that his wingmates had so forthrightly followed his commands.

The two Lancers had finished their turn and were now bearing down on Fox and Bill's Fledglings.

"Fox, our friends are back," said Bill his voice unwavering despite the enemy fighters.

"Roger, I see em'", replied Fox.

The central MFD on Fox's control panel displayed a video feed from the rear camera. He could see the two Separatist fighters coming closer. The digital box appeared over the image, a range number ticking away. Green lights appeared on the apertures of their twin wing cannons as they prepared to fire.

Even as he watched his enemies bear down on him and his wingmate, Fox hesitated to call Fara; if this was going to work, it would have to be perfect timing and they would only get one shot at it.

The Lancers raced closer…closer…

"Fox…" said Bill nervously. Fox didn't have to time to address his wingmate's concerns. The range continued to shrink. Fox imagined that the bogies would be in range at about 2.5 terrameters. The numbers recycled to match the distance so fast that Fox could only glimpse them in short bursts.

Distance 5.2 terrameters, 4.71, 4.34, 3.92…

"Fara, stand by…" said Fox. It took him all of his concentration to say that calmly.

The green lights grew brighter as the Lancer's weapons charged. Still closing fast, 3.48, 3.15, 2.80…

"Now!" barked Fox.

From high above came Fara's Fledgling, rolling and dropping toward the enemy fighters. She stopped the trainer's crisp roll with the ship inverted. Fara pulled back on the control column and her ship dove into the bottom of an inside loop. From the angle he was watching, Fox saw that Fara's right wingtip was overlapping one of the Lancer's fuselage. A collision appeared imminent to his trained eyes. Fara saw this as well and she tried to turn on a knife-edge to slide through, but it was too late.

The right wing of Fara's Fledgling struck the right hand Lancer just aft of the cockpit, tearing a deep gash in the ship's fuselage. The collision was silent in the vacuum of space though and a cloud of small metallic debris drifted away from the craft. Fara continued to travel down and it looked like she was pulling up and recovering from the dive, although her craft was now missing its entire starboard wing.

_That's a good sign_ thought Fox. "Rabbit three come in, status report," haled Fox. No response.

Fox didn't have time to worry about Fara at the moment or to fire off another message. Despite the collision, he still had two bogies to deal with. Fara had done her duty and she had succeeded; the two fighters had veered off in opposite directions to avoid the fennec's tiny ship.

Now was the time to strike. "Bill! Take the damaged bogey. At that speed he'll flash right by you. As soon as he does, lock on and take him down!"

"You got it! Engaging target," replied Bill. The anxiety in his voice had suddenly vanished and was now replaced by excitement.

Fox's quarry had made as hard a turn as he could to dodge Fara. Although his engines were still on full burn and his speed was much greater then Fox's Fledgling could manage, the Lancer had shot up and directly into Fox's path.

The vulpine's reaction was automatic. The cannon came to life, spitting whirling shots of green in a line of destruction. He held the trigger down as his first shots impacted the target's port wing, severing it at the root. The stricken vessel paused for a moment and then leaned left from the loss of its wing. Fox fired another burst. He saw the shots hit, each one destroying another part of the doomed fighter before its engines overheated and exploded, vaporizing any traces save for a few bits of debris.

Fox had just destroyed his first enemy fighter. Simultaneous emotions of relief and jubilation resounded through him.

Meanwhile, Bill had caught the damaged enemy combatant in his rear camera. He watched the ship continue, though its course had been abruptly altered by the collision with Fara's ship. This caused the ship to speed past Bill on his port wing. The husky only needed to turn left and unleash a well placed burst from his cannon. Shot after shot impacted the fighter before its fuselage finally broke neatly in two.

Two enemy fighters destroyed.

Fox was so excited that he at first failed to check his sensor scope. Fortunately, the two fighters had been alone and no other contesters appeared on the screen. The only contact was Bill, but no sign of Fara…

"Rabbit three come in, this is Rabbit one", said Fox only to be met with silence. He haled again. "Rabbit one calling Rabbit three, please acknowledge Rabbit three, over," still no reply. Fox began to grow desperate, had he really lost Fara? Was her ship tumbling helplessly through the asteroid belt?

"Fara…come in, please," said Fox, his voice betraying his agony, "Fara, respond."

"Fox…" said Bill. He hesitated to speak his next words and his struggle to speak was evident in his voice, "I'm not picking up Fara on sensors."

For Fox, who had been holding on to the hope Fara was out there, hearing these words from someone else seemed a shock of reality. Could she really be gone?

But now, Fox had to worry about getting home. He didn't know if any CDF ships were on their way and he didn't know if the enemy fighters had radioed the Separatist base of their presence. For all Fox knew, more fighters could be headed for him and Bill at that very moment. He took a deep, prolonged breath. He and Bill had to move before any more surprises showed up. It was a painful call to make, but Fox knew he had to make it.

"Bill, resume exit course. Take my wing; let's get out of here," he said in anguish. Bill responded with a hushed acknowledgement and fell in behind Fox.

"Hey! You boys aren't leaving without me are you?"

Fox turned in his seat to look over his shoulder. There, he could see a Fledgling making speed. As it joined the formation on Fox's left wing, he could see it was missing its starboard wing.

"Fara!" he called out surprised and relived all at once.

"Fox, that was a pretty good tactic you pulled out of your ass there. But could you make sure your next idea doesn't involve me losing my wing and missing out on the kills?" said Fara, still smug and unruffled.

Fox chuckled a light laugh, "Pulled out of my ass? You're the one missing a wing."

"And no kills…" teased Bill.

Fara growled under her breath.

"Come in Rabbit Flight, this is the CDF destroyer _Morian_. Rabbit Flight, do you read?" came a new voice on the COM. This one the crisp young voice of a junior officer.

"Roger that _Morian_, this is Rabbit Flight, Cadet McCloud speaking."

"We were in the neighborhood, heard your distress call and thought we might drop by. What is your status, over?"

"Copy that. We were engaged by two Lancers in Separatist colors and insignia. Both enemy fighters confirmed destroyed. One of my wingmate's ships is damaged and our C.O. was…" Fox suddenly found his throat constricted, it was difficult to say what he had to say, "Lieutenant Tarco is KIA."

"Roger Cadet. We're about one three two terrameters outside of the field. We have you on our scope and are moving towards your position. We'll open up the hanger for you."

"Much obliged _Morian_. We're inbound on your position. ETA: six minutes."

"Copy that. Hey Cadet, the captain and the bridge would like to know how a couple of first years managed to fight two superior ships and win", said the _Morian _COM officer, sounding almost skeptical.

"Well _Morian_, I'll tell ya", said Fox with a sly tone, "you just might have to name this one after me."

"Show off", muttered Fara, rolling her eyes.

Fox chuckled lightly, "What? The McCloud Maneuver, I think it's got a ring to it!"


End file.
